


Nothing Without You

by ForestFox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 07:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11801463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestFox/pseuds/ForestFox
Summary: He is undefinable. Not quite right, not quite there, until he makes him right.





	Nothing Without You

It was a simple thing. He wanted to feel sexy for him. But he had no idea how a guy could be sexy. He had never even really liked guys before. Sure, he knew he liked looking at guys. But he finally understood what a girl must feel like, not feeling pretty enough or interesting enough to pull his eyes. So he thought about it long and hard, looked at how girls got sexy for their loved ones. He couldn’t exactly put on lipstick and pumps that made breasts he didn’t have stick out. But the root ideas were the same. Even if he thought he felt like he was trying to polish a turd. He even tried shaving his legs in a wild surreal night but he felt too self-aware and did his best to keep his legs hidden for weeks after.

 

So he started looking at guys he found attractive. Two stood out in his mind, one with a rotten personality, and the other he wished he could love. That would have been easier than the guy he had fallen head over heels for. He analyzed them both with a critical eye. He wondered what kind of routines they had to do that girls did to look… special. Hair product was one, so he spent time figuring out what product he could afford and use long term. He ended up picking a cost-friendly woman’s brand that smelled nice. He didn’t really care if the bottle was hot pink and smelled nice in his hair. It did the job.

 

He noticed they always took care on what they wore on levels equal to that of his red headed partner in crime, which was saying something. One was always rocking the most expensive and tailored brands because he was a rich dick with no credit card limit. The other just did his best to look good. But like hell was he ditching his iconic tees. His pants he could work with, even if skinny jeans made him feel like his balls were retreating into his body, turning him into a girl. He did start buying his tees a size smaller. He still felt comfortable but didn’t feel like he betrayed what he liked.

 

He didn’t want to put on make-up though. He wasn’t sure how else he could modify himself to attract his guy. He hated how Selena Gomez could make a whole video of her mouth look like a promise of sex. Then again, when he had laughed he noticed his guy staring. Maybe he didn’t need lipstick to get his attention, just… emotion?

 

He forces himself slightly out of the haze for him. Willing his feelings to be written on his face. Forcing smiles when he didn’t feel it and easing the sharpness of his sarcasm. Small fake gestures that turned true through forced repetition. Him being happy made him look, and in looking eventually he shared in those smiles.

 

Love hurt.

 

But he didn’t want to rush, to push where there was only wall. He didn’t want to rip open his chest and show him his heart if he wasn’t going to appreciate it. So he continued to smile, to dress better, to be as open and attractive as a super star without changing who he was.

 

Which left him on a couch in the dark. A movie he wasn’t really watching played on the screen as he tried to mentally molest his movie night partner. His heart thumped rhythmically against his chest, beating out a tune of lust and affection when their knees touched. His leg, clad in tight jeans, joined in a super nova of nerve endings firing off that yes, his knee was in fact pressed firmly against his toned and strong legs. He felt like he was naked just because of that slutty knee.

 

“Hey… calm down,” was the soft comment as a warm hand slid over his easily. He finally focused on the tv screen, surprised to see credits rolling. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

 

“Oh,” slipped out of his numb lips. He was naked, he had to be, all his clothes and skin gone and the muscles too. Those hazel eyes now glowing blue in the dimly lit room stared at him. “Cheater.” Well least his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. He was something. An entity trapped in bones on display for those eyes, being burned alive and frozen from the inside out. Completely open to those heightened senses no matter what he did or didn’t say.

 

“I try not to read you… but you make it easy. I was… waiting for myself to be ready and I’m pretty sure I am for once… can I kiss you?” He was polite. Abused and hurt and still he was polite! Licking his lips in anticipation he gave a dumb nod, not trusting his mouth for the moment.

 

He almost wanted to argue when beard pricked his skin and lips pressed to the corner of his mouth. He wanted more than a shitty little kiddy kiss. But then again, he was pretty sure his chest might snap apart and his heart would fire off into the air like a rocket and kill him. He was going to die from just kissing. But the kiss didn’t stop there. Just a gentle touch at first, dry lips pressing from the corner of his mouth to the fullness of his lips as warm fingers touched his chin and tilted his head for more access.

 

It was slow, he knew, every step a tentative, silent request for permission. But his body was wound up with emotion. Every second was an eternity passing in the blink of an eye, how could so much time fit in tiny moment?

 

And then the kiss was losing its innocence. Shedding its careful touches like a high-class hooker putting on a damn good show. His hands were sliding over strong shoulders, hanging on for dear life as he was pushed over a cliff and laid carefully down on the couch. How could he be on fire, his mouth stoking the flames, tongue rolling against his as their kisses turned feverish. He was lava, molded into the shape of a person and held together by the man on top of him that could somehow burn hotter. His wet kisses were over as the prickles of his beard went from his chin to his neck. Sharp fangs nibbled at his sensitive skin there.

 

“Fuck, I thought I was ready- but I just… I want more than I should from you right now.” He panted into his neck, his hot breath making him shiver. Was he over-simulated? He knew normally his neck didn’t affect him like this. But then again, he didn’t normally have the object of his desire rocking against him, hard and focused on him.

 

“Anything. Whatever you want,” He insisted, pushing him carefully back to look at him. Those fiercely glowing eyes stared at him and nothing else existed. Well he did, but he was just heart beating out a frantic pace to put an athlete to shame. That heartbeat was currently strangled in his jeans, giving relief somewhere his actual heart was, he supposed, and his brain floated somewhere beyond infinity.

 

“You’re more important to me than getting laid on the first date, Stiles.” He blinked in stupid realization.

 

“First date? There’s going to be another… even if I don’t- we don’t-” He was nodding to his barely formed sentences. He grinned, feeling a starling clarity come to him. He was still burning hot, hoping that he might at least get his dick touched tonight. But he was Stiles, still who he had been, who he had always been, but for once he was noticed for being himself. He hadn’t turned himself into a better copy of himself with less content.

 

“Well… I didn’t actually plan on… you’re not that easy. You’d regret it later. Maybe we should just aim for enjoying dating a little more before I get you out of those pants. If I can do that without shredding them.” He laughed, that usually broody face lighting up even in the wake of those predatory eyes gleaming in the low light.

 

“Hmm, I know what you should do, you know, since you’re my boyfriend at all,” he stated with all the nonchalance his overheated body could manage.

 

The lights snapped on and another voice joined the moment. “Your boyfriend’s Derek Hale, huh? I thought there was a reason you weren’t telling me about the pants…”

 

Oh right. He was Stiles Stilinski, son to the Sheriff of Beacon Hills. To top it off he was dating Derek Hale! He had been too busy floating through this weird haze of want and self-pity that he had completely forgotten that today of all days was not the best day for a date. But Derek had asked to watch a movie, and he hadn’t put two and two together.

 

To his credit, Derek didn’t bolt like a dog with its tail between its legs.

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! Thanks for giving this a look! I hope you enjoyed it!


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